Will Hearn
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The Unconscious Cook

I don’t write just for write’s sake, but I do find it necessary to write regardless of the project the writing is done for.

Let’s be honest though; there’s always something to talk about. And for me, talking (writing) about the way people feel is directly related with what people put in their bodies, that devlish two edged sword known as food. When we start talking about food and energy, well that is nearly as exciting as talking about fly fishing.

Another day.

I certainly hope to cook for people (clients) for at least some amount of time in my life. I want to show people who don’t have the time, will-power, or creativity, that really good tasting food doesn’t have to take long, doesn’t need a recipe (granted it’s great to have them in the beginning) and that when you finish your meal you can be done cleaning in fifteen minutes (ten with a dishwasher) and you will feel wonderful physically, mentally, and emotionally.

That, my dear lovely friends, is Bulletproof.

Case and point. 20151111_171302

The thai coconut shrimp we made the other night.

Kate had some shrimp in her freezer we got at the market a few weeks ago. These puppies were fresh from Louisiana, never frozen, and cost us about 4-5$ a pound, head on. Good size too!

So we pulled them out and let them thaw. When dinner time rolls around in these here parts, we usually start looking around the fridge and first figure out what produce we have that will go with the protein we’re thawing. Usually there’s something in there even if it’s just a forgotten half of an onion and a head of cabbage or some raddishes.

Which is exactly what we had this particular night.

I had also happened to bring a big hunk of ginger that needed to be eaten and some homemade yogurt that I let ferment too long and was too tangy for my tongue. I grabbed a few cayenne peppers from the garden and we had ourselves a cuisine-based meal.

This is simply because our tastes and nutritional preferences lean towards these hearty, healthy, foods and we’ve come accustomed to planning our meals without planning our meals. It’s as if we’ve got our own unconscious cooks in our heads that remind us now and then to grab an extra bunch of kale or stock up on the butter or to go ahead and pull that bone broth out of the freezer for this week. And before you know it you’re throwing everthing but the kitchen sink in a pot and I look at Kate and say, “I knew I pulled that stock out for something,” and she says, “I knew you were an idiot,” and I smile and she smiles and isn’t that nice.

So maybe I’m writing to my unconscious cook, where he (she?) lives in the back of my mind, sweating behind a grill, hollering out “yes, Chef,” and “heard,” and I’m just the server up front, reaping all the rewards. Maybe I’m just writing to say thank you and to acknowledge the fact that I don’t always know what’s going on so when a friend or family member tells me “that was really good,” I can just shrug my shoulders and tell them thanks but it was easy.

The hardest meals to cook are the ones I follow from a recipe.

There’s so much looking back and forth and measuring and timing and checking and by the time dinner gets here I just want to lie down and listen to everyone lick their chops. I call that one, too pooped to eat.

Someday me and my unconscious cook will meet up and make a plan and that plan will be one that is bulletproof and that serves others. I don’t know how it’ll work out, but I’m getting used to the idea that we aren’t meant to.

Oh, and here’s Kate, being all cute and stuff after a workout. (Disclaimer: She never actually calls me an idiot but I think it’s a funny word. Probably because she never calls me one.)
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Cheers, and everyone thank your unconscious bulletproof cook, they deserve it.

Will

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